How They Lived

by TheyWhoHaveNoName

Summary:

The apocalypse doesn’t care about dreams.

Enid Sinclair lost hers in an instant — no medals, no stadiums, just running for her life.
Wednesday Addams got hers, in a sense — a world reshaped by the disease she once studied. Unfortunately, success can be indistinguishable from catastrophe.

Together, they’ll discover survival isn’t just about outrunning zombies. It’s about outlasting everything else.

Notes:

This is the result of me rewatching some of TWD and playing Project Zomboid recently.

Chapter 1: Clenched Teeth

Enid slammed the door shut behind herself, breathing hard as she locked it and stepped back just as hissing sounded out from the other side, groans and gurgling of the growing louder as the door rattled on it's hinges.

"Fuck." Was all she could manage to say as she looked down at the single can of baked beans she managed to grab from the small store across the way before the biters caught wind of her.

She turned placing it down and redoing her ponytail as fast as she could, then sliding on her letterman, not useful but better than just having her bare arms exposed given how prone the dead seem to be in biting anything they can grab onto.

Then she quickly started putting on some bike gloves, knee and arm guards. Never more thankful than right now that she knew her extended family was so focused on sports. Lifting up her baseball bat she adjusted her grip on it, glancing at the door again, she could hear the wood groaning against the bloodied things trying to break inside.

She snatched up her small backpack and threw it on, she had planned to leave after checking that store but she hadn't expected so many to be packed into the back room, they had been busy stuffing themselves with the manager she had spoken to not even a month ago, now likely already a walking corpse if there was even enough of him left to do so.

Shoving the can into her bag she turned and went for the back door, taking in a deep breath and pausing, looking over the small home she'd been surviving in for the past week as things got worse, she had watched in horror as the news slowly became worse and worse, ending with the news crew themselves being attacked live on television. It didn't cut out until a day later when the government released their own country wide announcement.

For a moment she thought about staying, maybe trying to hide until the biters wandered off like she'd seen them do. That idea however was ripped out of her hands as the front door finally gave in allowing the dead to freely give chase. A split seconds of memories, her first summer spent here in Jericho county, camping, hunting with her dad and brothers.

Then she was out the back door slamming it shut behind herself and sprinting across the backyard, thankful that the dead so far haven't shown any sign of being able to move faster than a slow walk, yet she'd rather not chance her luck with a fenced off backyard.

Tossing her bat over first she leapt up and caught her hands on the lip of the fence, feet bracing on the cross bar along it's back before pulling herself up and over, landing with a thud. This was the third time in two days that she had to abandoned a place she rested in, this one far more personal given it's the house she basically grew up in, now it belonged to the restless dead and she needed to find somewhere safe to plan, to figure out what she was going to do and how she was going to find her family.

They were in a safe zone four days ago, cordoned off by the military and everything seemed to be returning to normal, everyone had tasks to do, everyone had food and water- even if limited to one meal a day- it was enough. Then in the middle of the night a fire broke out and everything collapsed quickly after that, she ran with her family but got separated when a horde arrived following the noise and light from the fire.

Thunder rumbled over head drawing her attention from her last few painful days to the now, eyes looking upward for a moment as the clouds got darker and darker. Being caught out in the rain would be miserable, doubly so if she got sick since you can't just pop around to the pharmacy now. So she needed shelter.

She paused at the edge of a street, looking up and down it finding nothing save for a single thoroughly eaten corpse. Then she looked across toward a family house the front door slightly ajar, the car out front flashing blinks at her as if inviting her over. Next to it a now re-killed dead person laid on the ground a knife buried in the base of it's skull. Gripping her bat she slowly crept across the street raising the bat as she walked about the car trying to catch a glimpse into the open driver's door only to find it empty but the keys pushed into the ignition waiting to be turned and a  coating of blood along the seat.

Then her eyes went to the ajar door of the house, a bloodied handprint left on the frame of the door near the doorknob.

It was stupid. Incredibly, impossibly stupid. But she approached slowly, weapons at the ready. At worse she'd find a few dead inside, at best they had already wandered off and she could search through the house for food she sorely needed.

pushing the door open slightly with her foot she lightly tapped her bat on the frame and waited for any tell tell signs of the dead only to hear nothing. She let out a quiet sight as she pushed the door further open glancing about for a light switch, flicking it on and stepping inside closing the door behind her as she entered the home, keeping her bat at the ready.

She could see a trail leading up the stairs to her right, bloodied handprints acting as a trail to follow she needed to take care of the dead if any first before she could comfortably search the house for valuables. The thought gave her a small pause, how different her life is now than it was just a month ago. She found herself wondering how Yoko was doing, if she was even alive still. If any of her friends were alive still. She had been planning to meet them all the day it all went to shit, hopefully they made it somewhere safe, hopefully they're all alive and lacking the craving for flesh.

Soft tapping snapped her back to attention as she readied her bat creeping slowly up the stairs, following the bloodied markings all the way and around the banister at the top. The smell of iron burned her nose as she reached the end of the trail in a small room, a man was slumped in a small rocking chair, behind him the wall painted in a deep read with bits of pink.

Enid fought every urge in her body to vomit up what little food she had, she looked away from the sight unable to bare it, unable to stomach it. Then she heard it, quiet whining. Her eyes drifted to the crib in the corner of the room with a bloodied print on the side of it, then her eyes flickered to the man's feet where a revolver sat, a spent shell likely still chambered in it.

She picked it up and shoved it into the coat of her letterman, then she approached the crib only to be met with deep green eyes staring back up at her. 'Caitlyn' was sprawled out on the off-white bedding the baby rested on.

The urge to vomit suddenly doubled, there was no way that he knew someone would come, how could someone ever leave their child- Her eyes looked the man over properly now, keeping her gaze below the shoulders as she realized that his left arm had a large gnarly bite that still oozed a faint trickle of blood.

That's how. She sighed softly looking down at the baby again, who looked on the verge of crying as she stared up at Enid. "Don't worry baby, we'll get you taken care of, okay?" She couldn't just leave the baby here. It wasn't safe, it couldn't be. All it would take is for the baby to cry once and draw in a single zombie.

It wouldn't have any moral qualms about doing what it's driven to do. She reached down, swaddling the baby further in it's cover rocking them slightly. Enid’s hands shook as she worked, tearing the blanket from the crib and knotting it across her chest as best she could. The makeshift sling sagged awkwardly, but after a few adjustments she had the baby tied close enough that she could feel each tiny breath against her ribs.

“Okay… okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself, though the words came out cracked. The baby squirmed, green eyes fixed on her face like it was the only steady thing left in the world. Enid pulled the straps of her backpack tighter, slid her bat into one hand, and forced herself to keep moving.

She searched the rest of the upstairs rooms first, keeping her steps as light as possible. A half-empty bottle of water on a nightstand. A box of crackers gone stale. Nothing else worth carrying. The downstairs wasn’t much better—cabinets already stripped bare, drawers pulled open and left scattered across the floor. Whoever had been here before her had already taken what mattered.

She was about to give up when she spotted a small pack of diapers shoved under the sink, along with a handful of unopened wipes. It wasn’t formula, but it was something. She stuffed them into her bag and adjusted the baby again, careful to keep her head supported.

The baby whimpered once, a soft sound that made Enid’s stomach twist. She pressed a hand gently against its back, rocking slightly, whispering again: “Shh… it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

But the truth hit hard and fast—she didn’t have anything. No milk, no formula. The baby wouldn’t last on crackers, water and wishful thinking. She looked out the front window for a moment, still no dead. Her eyes drifted to the car still parked outside.

She slowly opened the door being extra vigilant of her surroundings now that it wasn't just her life on the line now. She swallowed hard as she moved as quickly as she could to the car, climbing behind the wheel and closing the door to avoid making the same mistake as Cait's father.

Looking in the backseat she spotted a mostly empty backpack, digging through it just a bit more she found a half empty baby food bottle. It was obvious what happened now, Cait's father had ran out of food for both himself and her in the week since it all went bad, he decided to get the car ready to try and find some food, got bit then did what any parent would do- almost any at least- and made sure she at least had a chance to survive.

"You're pretty lucky huh?" Enid muttered softly down to the quiet babe, gently brushing her knuckle over Cait's nose before she twisted the ignition sending the car roaring to life. Wherever she goes she'd only have a few minutes before the dead swarm around the car. Something she's sure of is that they follow loud noises and have really shit eyesight at night.

"Don't worry, we'll get you some food then find somewhere safe, okay?"

Enid shifted the gear stick with shaking hands, forcing the car into drive. The engine rumbled too loud, like it was shouting her position to the whole damn county. She kept her eyes darting between the road ahead and the side mirrors, searching for shapes moving in the dark.

The streets were emptier than she expected. A few bodies slumped along the sidewalks, some twitching, some mercifully still. Every time the headlights swept across a pale face her chest tightened, but she pressed the gas harder. She didn’t have the luxury of turning back.

The baby shifted against her chest, a soft grunt muffled by the blanket. Enid’s heart clenched. “Almost there,” she whispered, keeping her voice low even though Cait couldn’t understand. Maybe it was more for herself.

She turned a corner and spotted the market ahead. Small, squat building, one flickering fluorescent still buzzing in the front window like a beacon. A handful of silhouettes lingered near the glass, their bodies jerking unnaturally as they pressed against it, drawn by the light inside. Not too many—manageable, maybe.

She eased the car to a stop a block away and killed the engine. The silence hit like a hammer. For a moment she just sat there, breathing hard, hands tight on the wheel.

Then she looked down at Cait, brushing her fingers lightly against the blanket sling. “This is gonna suck,” she muttered, shoving the door open and stepping out into the fading afternoon light, thunder rolling over head once more.

Inside, the market smelled of stale bread and rotting fruit. The hum of that lone buzzing light was louder than it had any right to be, filling the aisles like a warning siren. Enid kept her bat raised, shoulders tight, eyes flicking between shelves and shadows.

Most of the perishables were useless—milk curdled, meat crawling with flies. But tucked behind a row of canned peas she found gold: two containers of baby formula, dented but sealed. She shoved them into her pack so fast she almost tore the zipper off. A few jars of applesauce followed, then a crinkled pack of diapers, light but better than nothing.

Cait gave a small, muffled whine. Enid froze, heart pounding, listening. Nothing. Just the steady drum of rain starting against the roof. She let out the breath she’d been holding and whispered, “Good girl,” patting the blanket gently.

By the time her bag was half full, she actually started to think she might pull it off. In and out. No one the wiser.

Then the crash came.

The front doors slammed open so hard the glass shattered, the echo tearing through the aisles like gunfire. Enid ducked instinctively, heart in her throat, clutching Cait tight against her chest.

Groans followed, low and wet, multiplying in an instant. She peeked around the endcap. Shapes spilled through the entrance- half a dozen, no, more. Their movements jerky, heads snapping side to side as if sniffing for her. One tripped on the glass, crawled up again, its jaw hanging loose by a thread of muscle.

“Shit,” Enid hissed, backing away, her boots squeaking faintly against the linoleum.

Cait shifted, making a soft mewl, and Enid pressed her palm against the baby’s back, trying to steady both of them. Her mind spun, desperate. Front door’s gone. Windows crawling. Only way out was-

She turned, eyes locking on the back hallway. The employee exit.

Enid clutched her bat, pack digging into her shoulders as she bolted down the aisle. The sound of shuffling feet grew louder behind her, glass crunching, shelves toppling. She didn’t dare look back.

The hallway felt too long, fluorescent lights overhead flickering like they might give out at any second. She slammed into the door at the end, rattling the handle. Locked. No—blocked. Something heavy pressed against it from the other side.

“Come on, come on—!” she grunted, slamming her shoulder into it, again and again. It didn’t budge. The groans grew closer, feet dragging, hands slapping against the walls as they poured into the hall.

Cait whined then starting to cry, the sound cutting straight through Enid’s chest. She slid down against the door, curling her body around the baby, gripping her bat in one hand like it was all she had left.

“This is it,” she whispered, voice breaking. “We’ll make ‘em work for it at least.”

The first shadow fell across her, a corpse dragging itself closer, teeth snapping wetly—

And then the door wrenched open behind her, a combat boot lashing out over her shoulder connecting with the corpse in a wet crunch that made Enid's stomach flip before a hand grabbed her by the back of her collar and yanked her through the door, then slamming it shut shortly after propping a metal pole across it to keep it from being opened immediately at least.

Enid blinked a few times, her heart still in her ears as she was hit with rain, looking up toward the figure with eyes to match the darkness growing in the sky above, olive skin only made all the more obvious by the two short pigtails resting over her shoulders.

The woman was dressed in a clashing mix of comfortability and gothic charm. Combat boots, pants with more pockets than Enid would know what to do with, a turtleneck with the forearms, shoulders and biceps covered in what Enid could only assume was leather or something of that sort at her hip, a row of knives, some clearly for hunting, even a scalpel was amongst their number.

"You're welcome." The woman said lowly, for a second Enid confused her voice for thunder before she blinked a few times the hissing and snarling fading as she looked down at Cait, shielding the baby from the worse of the rain overhead. "Thank you." Enid said, fighting back tears of her own as the woman groaned.

"If you start crying I will leave you here."

Enid’s mouth opened, then shut, her throat dry despite the rain dripping into her hair. “You—You can’t just say that. I had a baby in there!”

Wednesday arched a brow, utterly unfazed, as if the downpour and the clawing dead just a door away were minor inconveniences. “And yet somehow,” she said evenly, “you’re both alive. My intervention clearly wasn’t wasted.”

Enid adjusted Cait against her chest, swaying instinctively to soothe the baby’s tiny cries. The thunder rolled again, louder now, rattling in her chest. She stared at the stranger, searching her face. “Who are you?”

Instead of an answer, she just crouched down staring at the child with an empty face that made Enid's skin itch in a uncomfortable way. "They don't look malnourished." They commented though it was quiet enough that Enid almost didn't catch it over the light pattering of rain.

Then, as if the question didn’t interest her in the slightest, she stood and turned on her heel. “Follow me if you’d rather not join the buffet.”

Enid stood frozen for half a beat, rain plastering her hair to her forehead. Then Cait whimpered again, and that made the choice for her. She tightened her grip on the bat, glanced once at the shaking door behind them, and hurried after the strange woman.

She glanced down at Cait, shifting the blanket so the baby’s face was tucked away from the rain. “Yeah, I know,” she whispered. Her pulse was still hammering, her arms shaky, but her legs carried her after the stranger anyway. What else was she supposed to do? Stand around and wait for the biters to pour through the door?

The woman cut down an alley between the side of the market and a half-collapsed laundromat. Enid’s sneakers splashed in muddy water as she followed, nerves sparking at every hiss of wind and echo of thunder. She kept catching herself staring at the back of the woman’s head watching the pigtails swaying faintly as she walked.

Enid swallowed, adjusting Cait again. “So… thanks,” she tried, the word awkward and small in the storm.

The woman didn’t turn. “You already said that.”

Enid bit down on her tongue, teeth clacking. Right. Okay. Not chatty. Fine.

"..what do you think, Cait?" Enid whispered to the infant who answered by simply staring up owlishly at her, gaining a soft huff from Enid who went back to watching her surroundings. They walked for a few more minutes before they paused at the mouth of an ally way.

Then the woman reached into one of her many pockets producing a set of keys, followed by unhooking one of the knives at her belt. "Do not move from here." 

"What-"

Without letting Enid finish she stepped out onto the street, stalking across it toward a black hearse half parked in the ally way across from them. Who the hell drove one of those around when the world wasn’t ending—let alone now?

She shifted Cait higher on her chest, the blanket harness tugging against her shoulders as the baby made a soft fussing noise. Enid rocked on her heels, whispering quickly, “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re okay.” But her eyes stayed locked on the woman, every step deliberate as she circled the car.

The knife flashed once in the dim light, rain sliding down the blade. Enid swallowed hard. Was she checking for biters in the windows? Cutting something loose? Or maybe—maybe she was just the kind of person who always walked around with a knife drawn, even when it wasn’t necessary.

Enid realized her palms were sweating inside her gloves. Her bat felt slick and heavy. She hated waiting—hated standing still when every nerve in her body screamed that she should be moving, running, doing something.

Thunder boomed overhead. Cait whimpered again.

Enid’s eyes flicked back to the woman just as she leaned into the hearse’s driver-side door, the engine coughing to life a second later. The low, guttural rumble of it filled the alley, vibrating through Enid’s shoes as it pulled up onto the sidewalk, the passenger door opening.

Enid didn't need to be told twice, quickly climbing inside and closing the door she failed to suppress a shiver finally out of the cold rain, she looked down at Cait who's eyes had half closed. "Does this thing have a heater?"

The woman casted a glance at Enid, then at the child swaddled in her arms before breathing through her nose as she flicked on the AC system, allowing warm air to fill the cold space.

"Thanks." Enid muttered for the third time now gently wiping at Cait's face. "Wednesday."

Enid blinked a few times slowly looking at the woman in confusion before uttering in all her intelligence; "...Thursday?"

That gained a stare from her savior who seemed like she was considering driving them at a high speed into a wall. "Wednesday is my name. You asked for it earlier." She explained tersely, through clenched teeth.

Enid’s mouth went dry. “Oh. Right. Wednesday.” She shifted in her seat, hugging Cait a little tighter, like maybe the baby could shield her from the weight of that stare. “Cool name.”

Wednesday said nothing turning her eyes back to the front window. The windshield wipers dragged across the glass with a shrill squeak, the only answer Enid got.

Enid bit her lip, glancing at the interior of the hearse. It smelled faintly of leather and something sharp, antiseptic maybe. There were papers stacked neatly on the dash, a book shoved between the seats with a ribbon marking the halfway point. Not a mess. Not a single soda can or fast-food wrapper. Whoever Wednesday was, she kept this car like a coffin—clean, sealed, impersonal.

Enid cleared her throat. “So, uh… where exactly are we going?”

Wednesday flicked her eyes from the road to her for a fraction of a second, then back. “Somewhere you won’t die immediately.”

Chapter 2: Operations & Reunions

"Wake up."

Enid jerked in the seat, head throbbing from being tugged forcibly from her exhaustion induced sleep. Her mind racing as she felt a shift in her arms and looked down at Cait reminding her that the past days weren't some nightmare she could pass off as having never happened.

Enid attempted to look out the window beside her only to be met with dark woods and a thick mist thanks to the rain coming down in sheets now. Enid blinked hard, trying to force her brain to catch up to her body. “Wh- where are we?” she muttered, voice raw with sleep.

Wednesday didn’t answer right away. She leaned forward in her seat, eyes on the road- or what passed for it, the hearse’s headlights cutting through the rain in weak cones of yellow.  "My home." She eventually answered as if the words had slipped her mind for a moment as lightning flashed, sending a spark of white across the horizon and outlining a large building in the distance, as they drew closer.

Two minutes later they pulled to a stop in front of the imposing iron gate of the, a small wooden tower peaked over the brick wall to the right, a spotlight turning to point down on the car.

"There are others?" Enid asked quietly squinting as the light hit them, Wednesday flicked the headlights on and off in what Enid assumed was a code of some kind. A second later the gate swung open and Wednesday pulled through them coming to a stop beneath a thick awning.

Wednesday didn't spare Enid another glance as she turned the car off and began to climb out, Enid took a moment to gather herself for the first time since getting in the car she considered the possibility that she just walked straight into some fucked up cult with a child.

Then again what other choice did she have all things considered? They'd be alive at least and not food for mindless corpses, that had to count for something.

Right?

Enid climbed out, slinging her backpack over one shoulder first, then securing the blanket sling and grabbing her bat just in case she needed to defend herself from these people. Wednesday pulled a duffel bag from the back of the hearse and moved to walk past Enid.

Casting a single glance about the yard still covered in the rain's mist, her eyes drifting toward the wooden tower and the figure stood atop it currently smoking if the faint orange glow against the darkening sky was anything to go by. Then she followed after Wednesday as the sound of voices got louder a heated argument if Enid had ever heard one. She glanced at Wednesday who didn't seem to pay it any mind.

Eventually the doors were shoved open and a blast of heat hit Enid like a warm hug, chasing off the chill the rain was set on trying to get into her bones with. "She's been gone for hours! She was supposed to be back by now! We can't just sit here and-" A man shouted, voice cracking halfway through only for him to be cut off by a almost mocking voice

"Do exactly what she told us to do? That being not going out half-cocked looking for her if she doesn't immediately come back? How about you think with your brain instead of your-"

"Don't, Bianca. Don't go there." He cut through, voice dropping to a whispered shout. 

"Why not, Xav? We all know you have the hots for short and spooky."

Enid blinked a few times her eyes drifting down to Wednesday who's eyes were narrowed but otherwise didn't seem all too bothered by the words as she continued on her march, Enid following close behind.

"Oh my god can you two shut up, you've been doing this for so looooong."

Enid's heart leapt up as she heard a voice she had thought she never would again. "Yoko?!" She called out and the fighting stopped followed by hurried footsteps as Yoko slid around the corner, black hair cut into a short bob and sunglasses still firmly secured on her face a loud gasp coming from her best friend.

"Holy shit! Holy shit holy shit holy shit!" She found herself being squeezed into a hug by her best friend while her other hand remained firmly around Cait to avoid the small thing being crushed in her friend's excitement. "Holy. Shit. Sinclair! I was worried sick! What happened to your phone? I was trying to reach you for like every day until the lines went down- and-" Yoko finally noticed Cait staring down at the baby for all of two seconds before looking incredulously at her friend.

"You didn't."

It was Enid's turn to blink owlishly at her friend. "What?? No??? I found her!" Yoko sighed rubbing her forehead. "I'm to young to be an Aunt, Enid."

"Yoko, you're like... twenty three."

“That’s too young,” Yoko snapped back, but her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile.

Before Enid could retort, the sound of boots scuffing against wood carried down the hall. A cluster of figures spilled in from the adjoining room, voices raised, sharp from the argument still simmering between them.

Kent came first, still red-faced from shouting, his fists half-clenched like he hadn’t burned all the fight out of him yet. Bianca followed close behind, calm but sharp-eyed, the cool steel in her voice practically trailing after her. Divina slipped in at Kent’s shoulder, her expression tight, clearly caught between irritation and worry. And Xavier trailed last, muttering something low enough Enid couldn’t catch, though the tension in his posture said plenty.

“Woah. Enid??” Kent blurted, the red in his face vanishing immediately in favor of barely contained joy.

Enid blinked hard. It felt surreal. The Nightshades had been inseparable during school—holidays, summers, late-night calls—but that was then. College and life had pulled them in different directions. To see them all here, now, in this place, after everything—her chest ached like she’d stepped into some upside-down reflection of their past.

“…Hey guys,” she managed, still processing. “How did… how did you all end up here?”

“Same as you probably,” Bianca said smoothly, arms folding across her chest. “Ran into five feet of stoicism and got dropped off here. Me and the twins were at my parents’ place.” She nodded toward Kent and Divina, who gave small, confirming tilts of their heads.

Divina’s mouth pressed thin. “She showed up while we were raiding the golf club for supplies. Said we could help her carry what she needed or stay behind.”

Kent let out a dry laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t feel like much of a choice at the time honestly. But… she brought us back here. Been here since.”

Xavier nodded slightly hanging to the edge of the group. "Same here, me and Ajax ended up trapped in the library downtown and stayed there for a day or too. ...we ran into Wednesday when she had came in to look for some books." He explained his voice coming out like a mumble as he pushed his hands into his jacket's pockets.

"It's the same for all of us really," Yoko began at her side. "Ran into the tiny terror and she gives us the option to follow or stay and given that she's the only person we ran into not fully panicking it seemed like a good idea, which it was. Though she's about as strict as-"

"Tanaka." The devil called having been summoned by the invoking of her name as Wednesday stared at the group having returned after putting all the supplies she gathered away. "Were you not supposed to be organizing the stockpile?"

"Sure was, I'll get on that- first should we talk about the tiny elephant in the room though?" All eyes turned toward Enid who in turn hugged Cait just a bit closer to herself as she looked at her friends in turn eventually stopping on Wednesday who stared back for a moment then simply looked away crossing her hands in front of her.

"...why didn't we have a baby shower?" Kent was the first one to speak earning a smack to the back of the head from his sibling.

Enid could feel the heat creeping up her neck as she rushed to speak. "She! She's not mine! Well I mean- She's not mine in the sense that I had her- She's just-" She groaned at the skeptical looks building before sighing looking down at Cait who was still slumbering away. "...Her dad got bit and he..." She fought against the lump in her throat as she reached into her letterman's pocket and retrieved the revolver that was still missing a single bullet.

The group sobered quickly after that with a collective heaviness.

“…Do we have enough for this?” Xavier’s question hung in the air, his voice quieter than usual, but unkind. His eyes flicked from Cait to Enid, then to Wednesday.

Divina folded her arms, shifting uncomfortably. “Supplies aren’t infinite. Diapers. Formula. Medicine.”

“Yeah, but it’s a baby,” Kent shot back, the edge of panic lingering. “She doesn’t—she can’t—fight, or run, or—”

“Neither can you after three beers,” Yoko muttered, breaking the tension with a sharp grin, though her voice faltered at the edges.

Enid bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She wanted to scream, to defend Cait, to say she’d die before leaving her behind—but the words tangled in her throat. All she could manage was holding the child closer, as if shielding her from their doubts.

Bianca’s gaze was steady, unreadable, before she finally exhaled. “The question isn’t if we have enough. It’s if we can make enough last.”

Wednesday was silent for the most part, simply watching the group up until Enid looked toward her again only speaking after a few more seconds of indecisive silence.

"Six months."

Everyone shared a look and blink then looked toward the dark horse of a leader. "Gonna elaborate, Addams?" Bianca drawled leaning back against a rustic couch piece.

"Six months after birth a child can start consuming and processing smaller solid foods, we could exchange her diet for different kinds of purée. So realistically we need only get enough food to last her six months as we do not know the child's age or medical history we will need to be careful of any allergies."

Everyone blinked owlishly at the stoic woman who looked each of them in turn chin lifting slightly in challenge for any of them to comment on her vast knowledge of baby habits.

Enid relaxed a bit, the words making it clear that they wouldn't be trying to toss Cait anytime soon. "Cool." Kent added unhelpfully. Divina was the next to speak up. "So we should probably come up with a plan of some kind for the long term. At least until help comes right?"

"You think help's coming?" Bianca asked clearly surprised by the concept.

Divina’s arms tightened around herself, her voice quieter this time. “It’s been… what, a month? Maybe more? Someone has to be out there doing something. The government, the military—”

Kent nodded quickly, seizing onto her words. “Yeah. I mean, they can’t just… let this go on forever. Right? There’s gotta be safe zones. Camps.”

Bianca gave a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. “If there were camps, we’d have seen the soldiers by now. Or the helicopters. Or anything. Face it—we’re on our own.”

Enid swallowed hard, rocking Cait slightly against her chest as if the rhythm could ease the sudden cold in her stomach. She hated the way Bianca’s words rang true.

“…It does not matter,” Wednesday added. “If there is help, it will come when it comes. If there isn’t, then you’ll have wasted your energy waiting for it instead of preparing to live without it.”

Her words settled heavy in the room, final in the way Wednesday seemed to do.

“Spoken like someone already planning for the end of the world,” Xavier muttered from the back, voice almost drowned out by the storm outside.

"I did not see you complaining when you followed me here, Thorpe." She responded in kind turning her eyes on him, only for him to shrink back as if burned, then she nodded toward Divina. "You were right in that we do need a plan for the long term. So far I have only been focusing on stockpiling but given how many of us are in this group now and who knows how many more may join over time we should look into long term sources of food and water and perhaps finding a generator of some kind while stockpiling fuel."

“If we go by the gardening supply store we might be able to get some seeds for the usuals,” Divina offered, rubbing her arm as she thought aloud. “Might be harder to grow during the winter, but we could definitely stockpile and freeze some of it.”

Kent perked up, the tension in him bleeding into restless energy. “Yeah, and I used to help my uncle with his greenhouse. If we could salvage one or even just the frame, we might get something going faster. Heat it with lamps if we do get a generator.”

“Assuming we find one,” Bianca said, cutting in smoothly. Her tone wasn’t dismissive, just grounded. “Generators, gas, farming equipment—none of it’s going to just fall into our laps. We’ll need runs, and that means organization.”

Yoko groaned, flopping into one of the armchairs. “You mean schedules. Chores. Lists. You’re about to turn the apocalypse into summer camp, aren’t you?”

“Better than starving,” Bianca shot back, unimpressed.

Enid shifted Cait carefully against her shoulder, listening as the conversation spun around her. It was dizzying—seeds, fuel, generators. All she’d thought about lately was keeping moving, finding her family and now keeping the baby safe. She hadn’t let herself imagine anything beyond tomorrow.

Wednesday’s voice cut in again, cold but certain. “Kent—you’ll make a list of what’s needed for a greenhouse. Thorpe, you and Petropolus will scout potential sites for salvage once the storm passes.”

Xavier blinked, opening his mouth like he wanted to argue, then shut it again under her stare.

“Tanaka,” Wednesday continued without missing a beat, “inventory the stockpile. Sinclair—”

Enid froze, caught off guard as every head turned toward her.

Wednesday’s eyes lingered on Cait, then lifted back to Enid’s. “You will assist Divina with rationing and meal planning. You’ve been caring for the infant. That makes you the most suited to balancing what we have against what she needs.”

Enid swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had just handed her responsibility or tested her—but either way, she couldn’t say no. “…Okay,” she said softly, adjusting Cait.

"Then everyone has their tasks. Sinclair, with me." Then she moved toward the large staircase leading further into the house. Casting one more glance at Yoko who shot her a bright smile and two thumbs up, Enid followed after Wednesday clearing her throat a bit as she walked after the homeowner.

"...Thanks again." Enid said softly expecting dry sarcasm from Wednesday who surprised her by simply looking over her shoulder at the woman then nodding her head once.

Eventually stopping in front of a small wooden door painted a deep dark blue almost black. Pushing it open Enid found herself in a baby's room even if a bit macabre, a crib sat in one corner empty.

"This room belongs to my youngest brother, A good place for the child for now. Or we can have Kent help you move it into another room with a bed. There are plenty to choose from on the grounds." Wednesday said evenly looking at Enid at out the corner of her eye.

She nodded softly gently rubbing the babe's shoulder as she wandered up to the crib looking over the inside with a quiet hum, glancing toward Wednesday. "Where is your family anyway? It's weird that it's just you here."

Wednesday paused then looked at the window toward the rain sliding down the opposite side and casting patterns in the dark room. "They were all on a trip to our estate in the Russian wilderness. They are all fine as far as I am aware given my last contact with them was only a week ago. Addams tend to thrive in such extreme situations so I am sure I will run into them at some point or another." Wednesday answered easily her voice flat as ever though something nagged at Enid's inner mind that she couldn't quite pin down eventually opting to simply say;

"I know you will."

Wednesday nodded once and turned to leave, leaving Enid with Cait for the time being. Enid looked her over with a soft breath then wrinkling her nose at the smell coming from the child.

"Well at least you have good timing for a bathroom break..."

Twenty minutes later Enid arrived in the kitchen sporting a sleeveless shirt, her hair now tied neatly into a braid that touched the upper middle of her back baseball bat resting on her shoulder.

Yoko gave a low whistle as she entered. Divina was wearing an apron and working on making a stew of some kind. "I know you're a dumb jock but how'd you bulk like that? It's like you got two cannons for arms, girl." Enid rolled her eyes at the comment coming to a stop next to her friend who was cross legged on a stool watching Divina cook.

"It was all the bat swinging, doing it for a while over the course of a week and some will do that to you." Enid sighed motioning toward the bat she propped up in the corner of the room after entering, then she stepped over to Divina who was tapping her chin in thought.

"Anything I can do to help?" She asked, as Divina peered up at her for a moment then gave a slight smile. "You're welcome to peel and cut those potatoes. Just three of them."

"Sure, sure." Enid turned pulling a knife from the wooden sleeve they were currently hanging out of, turning from the firepit Divina was currently stirring over like some witch toward the counter and began to slowly peel the potato.

"...So a kid, huh? What's the long-term for that?" Yoko eventually asked, patting her knees some as Enid didn't even bother looking up from what she was doing.

“She’s staying,” Enid said simply, slicing into the potato with a little more force than necessary.

Yoko tilted her head, lips pursed. “I didn’t say she wasn’t. Just asking. I mean—babies cry, they eat, they get sick, they poop. A lot. Out here, it’s… not exactly a playground.”

Divina stirred the pot slowly, glancing between them. “It’s not impossible,” she said finally. “Harder, yes. But not impossible. People raised children in worse times.”

“Yeah, in history books,” Yoko shot back. “We’re not exactly sitting on a farm with a whole village to back us up.”

Enid set the knife down and finally looked at her friend. “I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out. She deserves a chance. Same as us.”

That quiet stubbornness in her voice made Yoko ease off a little, though she still clicked her tongue. “Guess I’ll just have to get used to hearing crying at three in the morning.”

“Consider it character development,” Divina said dryly.

"My character is plenty developed, thank you. So developed in fact, that I finished my chores early." Yoko said clearly proud of herself just as Bianca walked past the kitchen calling out as she went.

"Great! Then you can come help me check out the rest of the manor for anything useful."

Yoko groaned low and loud as she hopped off the stool and followed after Bianca still groaning as she went. Enid allowed herself a soft snort at her friend's attitude before focusing in on what she was doing. Working in companiable silence for the next ten minutes before Wednesday entered the kitchen, pausing for half a second to look Enid over with an expression Enid couldn't begin to fathom on her face.

Then she turned and opened a door in the kitchen closing it behind her as she walked down into what Enid guessed was the basement. "What's down there?" She asked curiously, Divina looked up for a second glanced at the door then back at what she was doing stirring the pot.

"Dunno, Wednesday's got a few rules for this place but the ones she does have? Don't go in her room and Don't go in the basement."

Enid  tilted her head, eyes moving away from Divina toward the door again before she eventually shrugged her shoulder's.

Enid tilted her head, eyes moving away from Divina toward the door again before she eventually shrugged her shoulders. “Kinda dramatic, don’t you think?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone.

Divina huffed a small laugh. “She’s always been like that. Everything’s on a need-to-know basis, and most of us don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like secrets."

Divina didn’t answer right away. She just stirred the pot, the soft bubbling filling the silence. Finally, she said, “Maybe it’s not about secrets. Maybe it’s just… the way she keeps control. If Wednesday didn’t have rules, half of us would be running around like headless chickens. or looking for flesh."

Enid exhaled slowly, leaning back against the counter. She glanced toward the basement door again, unease prickling at the back of her neck.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of heavy boots approached from the hall. Kent appeared in the doorway. “Div, Enid, Either of you seen Wednesday?”

“Basement,” Divina and Enid answered in sync.

Kent frowned. “Of course she is. Probably planning the end of the world in spreadsheets or something.”

Enid raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

"Nothing much, I just got that list she wanted and she got on my ass last time I was told to make a list and didn't get it to her within an hour or two." He sighed as the front door opened down the hall, leaning back to glance down at it. "Aaaaand now it's time for me to switch with Ajax." He looked at the paper then at Enid before smiling. "Niiiiiid. Wanna do me a favor?"

Enid groaned immediately, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh no. No way. I know that tone. That’s the ‘I’m about to dump my responsibility on you’ tone.”

Kent grinned, already holding the folded paper out like a peace offering. “Come on, it’s just dropping off a list. You’re already in here, closer to the basement door. Saves me the trip.”

“You mean it saves you from getting chewed out if she doesn’t like the way it’s written,” Enid shot back, wiping potato starch from her fingers on a rag but making no move to take it.

Divina arched an eyebrow at her brother, smirk tugging at her mouth. “Wow, Kent. Trying to pass off your homework again? Some habits die hard.”

Kent bristled. “It’s not homework. It’s—” He stopped himself, lowering his voice a little as if the basement door might actually be listening. “…It’s Addams-work. Totally different category of terrifying.”

Enid finally sighed, snatching the paper out of his hand. “Fine. But if she lectures me instead of you, I’m throwing you directly to the wolves. Or the zombies. Whichever comes first.”

“Deal,” Kent said brightly, already backing out of the doorway like a man escaping the gallows.

Divina shook her head, turning back to her stew. “You know he’s never going to stop pushing things off on you if you keep saying yes, right?”

"Something something, old habits die hard." Enid answered looking over the list herself for a moment before letting out a quiet breath and looking the basement door over. "Div. If I disappear down here take the kid and run." Enid said gravely as if it could truly be her end.

Only to get a "Uh huh." from her friend who had tuned out most of what she said as Enid pulled open the door slowly.

The hinges creaked like a bad horror movie cliché as the door swung open, the faint smell of dust and something metallic wafting up. A single bulb at the top of the stairs buzzed weakly, throwing a cone of yellow light down into darkness.

Enid hesitated on the threshold, clutching the list tighter than she meant to. “…Yup. Definitely murder basement vibes.”

Divina didn’t even look up from her stew this time. “Just drop the paper off and come back before the soup’s ready. If you start screaming, I’ll… think about helping.”

“That’s comforting.” Enid muttered, taking a cautious step onto the wooden stairs. They groaned under her weight, loud enough she winced. “Yup, this is it. This is how the dumb jock dies first in the scary movie.”

Divina’s dry voice floated after her. “As was written, Sinclair. You will be remembered.”

Enid snorted despite herself, descending another step. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

The door closed behind her with a soft click that made her ears twitch. She froze, glancing back up—half-expecting to see it locked. It wasn’t. Still, the basement swallowed the light greedily as she went further down, her bat-free hand trailing along the rough wall for balance.

At the bottom of the stairs, the space opened wide enough that Enid stopped short.

A sprawling county map stretched across the far wall, red pins stabbing into towns, yellow pins dotting farms, blue pins marking rivers and wells. Scrawled notes filled the margins: “unstable roof,” “likely raided,” “potential outpost.”

On one table, neat rows of notebooks were stacked beside jars of strange powders and vials of liquid. Another table bore a radio, its crackling static blending with the rain outside. And at the center, under the lantern light, Wednesday sat at a desk with a tape recorder, her voice low and measured as she spoke into it.

“…Resource estimates: fuel levels diminishing faster than anticipated. Sinclair’s acquisition of infant supplies remains a complication, though one that may—”

She stopped mid-sentence, black eyes lifting to pin Enid where she stood frozen halfway into the room. The silence stretched, broken only by the hiss of static.

“…You weren’t invited.”

Enid swallowed, then held up the crumpled paper like a peace offering. “Yeah, well, Kent begged me to deliver his homework before you skinned him alive. And technically, you never told me not to come down here. So, loophole.”

Wednesday’s gaze sharpened, considering. Her fingers lingered on the recorder before pressing stop with deliberate precision. “Semantics are a weak shield, Sinclair.”

“Hey, weak shield’s still a shield.” Enid shrugged, moving just enough to set the list down on the nearest table, though her eyes darted over the map again.

Brow furrowing a bit. "How come you don't have any of the flee markets on this?" Wednesday blinked slowly moving to stand at Enid's side looking at the map. "I was unaware that there were any. Do you know their locations?"  Enid slowly tilted her head looking the map over a bit before tapping a + intersection just outside of Jericho city. "I passed through it a day or so ago. Given how bad the storm is alot of it's probably gonna be wasted if we check it out but there was a mobile home there. Might be good to grab if we can?" Enid suggested gaining a simple nod from Wednesday.

"Perhaps. We will-"

"Enid! The kid's awake!" Divina called from above drawing Enid's attention away from map. "I should go handle that, sorry for intruding on whatever it is you were working on." She said easily giving Wednesday a small smile before heading back upstairs the sound of crying getting louder the further up she went.

She felt too young to be a mother, but too old to be against looking after the child. Cait was her responsibility regardless so off she went to teach herself how to be a mom and how to survive.

Chapter 3: No Rescue

"Volunteers?" Wednesday asked looking about the group gathered around the large dinning table. Enid raised her hand first. "Sure. I saw it so it makes sense if I go." She added easily, gently rocking Cait as the baby was sat neatly in her lap occupying herself with the important task of tasting and gnawing on her fingers with her gums.

Wednesday's gaze dragged over everyone else, Bianca crossed her legs as she leaned back in her chair, Kent and Divina were sharing hushed words at the far end of the table as Xavier was the next to speak up. "I'll go. I'll bring the toolbox with me incase the mobile home is messed up."

"You're good with cars?" Bianca asked curiously looking across at Xavier who gave a halfhearted shrug. Ajax speaking up. "Yeah, he's great with them, His dad used to teach us all sorts of stuff about cars, like this one time-"

"He's fine with them." Wednesday interrupted looking down at the clipboard she had been writing on. "I'll go too-" Ajax tried again.

"You will not." She interrupted turning her eyes on him as he frowned in confusion. "You will be assisting me in fortifying the fence and gate around the manor's grounds."

Ajax nodded slowly his mouth forming an oh before giving two thumbs up. "Right on."

The twins' discussion slowly reached it's peak as their harsh whispering grew louder. "-You can't be serious." Divina began with a groan.

"I can and I am, Wednesday-"

"No." Divina interrupted standing up just as Kent did the same, both beginning to seethe as they continued to go back and forth.

"Why not? I'm competent despite what you think, Div."

"That's not the point you numbskull."

"In that case." He turned toward Wednesday.

"Don't-"

"I'll go with Nid and Xavier." He finished gaining a frustrated groan from his sister as Wednesday tilted her chin up slightly as Yoko cleared her throat. "In that case, I'll stay here and look after the poop machine." She offered from her seat beside Enid gently reaching out to poke Cait in the stomach gaining a giggle from the small creature.

Enid looked over toward Wednesday who was staring at the twins in that unreadable way that she does before she simply nodded. "Very well, Kent." Then she wrote it down and turned to leave. "You'll be heading out first thing in the morning, I would prefer if you and your sibling handle whatever issue has arisen before then."

Then she was gone back down into the basement that she had claimed as her personal space.

---

Xavier breathed through his nose as he checked through the tool box the third time in just as many minutes finally satisfied that he had everything he'd need he hefted it up and placed it down beside his backpack having taken up a smaller room near the back of the mansion as his own.

Then he moved and sat down in front of the easel picking up the piece of charcoal he fished out from the fireplace earlier in the day. He was thankful to Wednesday in that she allowed him to make use of her mother's painting equipment and with the world currently in it's literal death throes he always felt like he was on his last threads, but painting helped far more than anyone would ever likely understand.

He looked absently at his work so far, a portrait of the first walking corpse he saw, an older woman who's skin was peeling like mascot suit left in a damp closet, it was all wrong and hard to even look at, at first.

Now he'd become desensitized to it wanting more than anything to paint the dead, if only to help himself get used to their presence as they aren't going anywhere anytime soon it seems.

It reminded him of the first few days with Wednesday, how at first he was set on trying to find help maybe someone would find some way to unfuck this situation, to save people but that notion was pulled out of his head by Wednesday herself.

The way she just went about everything as if it was beyond her, as if the dead and living both have no sway on what she did outside of the bare practical issues both bring to her. It was intimidating but at the same time incredibly alluring.

How could it not be? When everything's going to shit why would you not be drawn to the gothic lighthouse that is Wednesday Addams? Xavier paused in his messy sketching to look at his black stain hands, glancing toward the door for a moment.

Which is why he volunteered, He doesn't know why Sinclair was allowed into the basement without much fanfare, but it wasn't fair. He was here longer, he was saved only shortly after Bianca and The Twins. Was he not doing enough to be worthy of it?

Slowly he took the unfinished undead down from the easel and put up a blank canvas up, rolling his tongue around in his mouth as his heart ached at the idea that he might have already lost Addams, that he might not have even had a chance to begin with.

Starting with the prominent jawline he began to draw Wednesday, a palette cleanser after drawing the dead with something that left him calmer. At least for the most part, his eyes drifted down to the charcoal in his hand how it shook slightly as he took in a deep breath.

He was scared, who wouldn't be? This time tomorrow he could be part of the roaming dead, or a half eaten corpse somewhere. He was terrified of leaving the manor, but Wednesday did it almost every day and every day she came back just as unbothered as she left. If she could do it then maybe he could just fake it until he made it.

Along with helping her however he could, even if it was something every part of him was telling him not to do.

---

Kent sat cross-legged on the edge of the guest bed, drumming his fingers against his knee while Divina paced the floorboards wearing grooves into them. Same argument, different night. The air in the little room felt charged, like a thunderstorm waiting to break. "If you keep pacing like that you'll break the floor."

“You just had to volunteer,” she finally snapped, spinning on her heel to glare at him. “Do you even realize what you signed up for?”

He shrugged, eyes flicking toward the backpack he’d shoved under the nightstand. “A supply run. Not exactly rocket science.”

“It’s not just a supply run, Kent! It’s zombies, it’s strangers, it’s…” She flung her arms wide, voice rising. “…it’s the end of the world! And you’re treating it like some vacation.”

Kent leaned back on his palms, stretching his legs out deliberately until his boots hung off the end of the bed. “I’m treating it like a chance to actually do something instead of hiding in this mausoleum. You want me to sit on my hands while everyone else pulls their weight?”

“You already pull your weight here. You fixed the upstairs window, you helped me keep the firewood dry, you—”

“Those are chores, Div. Anyone can do that.” He cut her off, a scowl in his voice “This is different. This is important. And I’m not gonna keep being the guy everyone assumes can’t handle it.”

Divina’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and for a moment she just stared at him, the fire in her eyes dimming into something closer to fear to desperation. “Kent, no one thinks that about you! Me and Bianca would’ve been dead already if you weren’t around when everything went to shit.”

Kent shifted, drumming his fingers against his leg again. “Yeah, well…that was different... it was just us and we weren't all sitting around trying to figure out how to live from day to day. I was just lucky, Div.”

Divina threw up her hands. “You call dragging Bianca out of a wrecked van luck? You call fighting off that thing on the road luck? Because last time I checked, luck doesn’t swing a crowbar.”

He let out a short laugh, eyes drifting to the ground as his leg started to bounce, a way to work off the nerves burning away in his gut. “Wasn’t exactly a clean swing.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned before rubbing her face roughly. “You acted. You didn’t freeze. That’s what saved us. And now you’re acting like the only way to prove yourself is by running straight into danger.”

Kent leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe I need to know if I can do it again. Once isn’t proof.”

She stopped pacing. “…You’re going to get yourself killed trying to prove something you don’t have to.”

For a moment, the room went quiet except for the rain outside. Kent rubbed a hand over his face, then forced out a half-smile. “Then I guess I’ll just have to not die. Show you you’re wrong.”

Divina sat down on the bed beside him with a sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah.” His grin softened, easier now. “Runs in the family.”

---

“Are you sure?” Enid asked, wiping at Cait’s face with a napkin, glancing at Yoko from where she sat beside her also watching the baby entertain herself with eating the baby food before her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoko asked, leaning back into the couch as she pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees.

Enid frowned, turning back to Cait, who had managed to smear more mush on her eyebrow than in her mouth. “I don’t know. You’ve just been…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought without sounding like she was accusing her friend of something. Off. Tense. Like she was waiting for a shoe to drop.

Yoko shrugged, a tiny smirk tugging at her mouth. “You’re overthinking it. I’m fine. Besides, this kid’s practically an angel compared to half the brats I babysat in middle school.” She reached out and tapped Cait’s nose, making the baby squeal. “See? We’re gonna be besties.”

Enid tried to smile, but it felt thin. She studied Yoko from the corner of her eye. The way her arms stayed folded tight around her legs, the way her gaze didn’t quite meet hers for more than a second. Something was there, a knot she couldn’t untangle. But Yoko’s voice was steady, and Cait giggled like the world outside hadn't already fell apart, so Enid let it go.

“Okay,” she murmured, gathering up the half-empty jar of food and the spoon. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good,” Yoko said quickly, as if that ended the conversation. She leaned forward again, scooping Cait out of the chair and cradling her easily in her lap. “Now go pack or sharpen knives or… whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing. I’ve got this covered.”

Enid lingered for another heartbeat, then nodded. Yoko looked perfectly at ease, rocking Cait gently while the baby gummed at her sleeve. It was enough to make almost get Enid to believe her.

Enid wandered up to the room she was allotted by Wednesday. It was smaller than the others, with slanted ceilings and a single narrow window, but she liked it. The rain drummed against the glass as she unzipped her backpack, laying everything out on the bed in neat rows. Cans, a blanket, her extra shirt, Her soon to be useless phone. Her bat sat beside everything else, freshly cleaned at Wednesday's instruction given the potential of accidently making someone sick was a problem she wanted sorted early.

A single knock at the door drew her attention as she stood upright hands coming to rest on her hips. "Yep?" The door creaked open as Wednesday stepped into the room, eyes scanning over the bed for a moment then landing on Enid herself. "Are you prepared?"

Enid gave a nod and motioned at the bed. "Yeah, got everything I think I'll need out there."

Wednesday returned her eyes to Enid with a simple hum before stepping toward the bed and lifting up the bat, looking over the dented bar of metal. "This is your primary weapon then?"

Enid tilted her head a bit as she leaned back against the nightstand on the side of the bed. "Yeah, It was the first thing I grabbed when it all went sideways and hasn't let me down so far."

Wednesday hummed once in response turning it over in her hand before putting it back down on the bed turning to look at Enid for a long moment, then she reached behind herself and pulled cold metal free, placing it down on the bed along with a magazine.

Enid froze as she looked at the weapon, then at Wednesday. “…Seriously?” she asked, her voice pitching up. “You think I need—”

"Yes. What do you think you will encounter aside from the dead that roam in search for something to eat?" Wednesday questioned, sitting down next to the firearm and crossing her legs, burning a hole through Enid's skull as Enid let out a quiet sigh.

"Maybe some wild animals? Strays?" Enid knew full well what Wednesday was trying to imply but she refused to believe that people had fallen so far so quickly that they'd attack her unprovoked.

Wednesday stared unimpressed before looking toward the door. "In extreme conditions people are more than willing to kill each other if it means they can survive another day. I am not telling you to shoot first, but I am telling you to take protection with you in the worse case scenario. Better to be prepared than to be caught off balance."

Then she stood picking up the unloaded weapon in her left hand, looking it over to make sure the safety was on, keeping her finger off the trigger entirely she motioned Enid closer.

"I will show you how to properly fire it."

Enid stayed rooted in place, her arms tightening around herself. “Right now?”

“Yes. Unless you plan to suddenly absorb the knowledge by osmosis.” Wednesday raised a brow, her voice as flat as ever, but her well practiced posture precise as she held the pistol out for demonstration.

Enid hesitated before stepping closer, every muscle in her shoulders bunched tight. She half-expected the weapon to bite just from looking at it.

Wednesday angled it safely toward the wall, then snapped the magazine into place with a low metallic click. “First lesson. Always assume it is loaded. Always treat it as though it will fire. That discipline will save your fingers, your toes, or someone else’s life.”

Enid’s mouth went dry. She nodded quickly, eyes fixed on Wednesday’s hands.

“The grip.” Wednesday turned the gun sideways, showing her. “Thumb firm but not locked, hand steady. Recoil will punish sloppy wrists. Do not aim unless you intend to fire, and do not fire unless you are ready for the sound.”

Enid swallowed. “…The sound?”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked to her. “It is louder than you imagine. People flinch. That flinch can cost you.”

She ejected the magazine, cleared the chamber, and only then offered the gun to Enid, handle-first. “Try.”

Enid’s hand shook as she reached out. The weight surprised her, heavier than the bat in a different way — less swing, more responsibility. She adjusted her grip once, then twice, until Wednesday reached forward and shifted her fingers.

“Like that.” Her fingers were colder than Enid initially thought they would be, but warmer than she assumed. It was like she was always on the verge of becoming ice cold or warming up.

Enid breathed in through her nose. “You make it sound so… normal.”

Wednesday tilted her head, studying her as though the answer were obvious. “Death is normal. The method of delaying it requires practice.”

Enid let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all more a release of air. “Yeah. Comforting as always.”

“Do not confuse comfort with truth,” Wednesday replied simply, then retrieved the gun. "Now, I will show you how to load it so pay attention. I will only go through it once."

Enid straightened, shoulders stiff, eyes glued to the pistol as Wednesday seated the magazine with a clean click.

“You insert until you hear this sound,” Wednesday said, as if lecturing on proper stitching technique. “Then pull back the slide. Firmly. Half-measures will only jam the chamber.”

She demonstrated, the motion smooth, efficient. The metallic snap made Enid flinch despite herself.

“Now. Again.” Wednesday handed it back, and Enid swallowed hard, her palms already damp against the grip. She copied the motion clumsily, fumbling for leverage until Wednesday’s hand closed over hers, steadying. Together, they pulled the slide back with a sharp snap.

“There. Acceptable. Though I assumed all the muscles you brought along with you would make this easier for you.”

The comment caught Enid off guard. Did Wednesday just make a joke? Enid blinked at her, lips parting. “Was… was that a joke?”

Wednesday’s face betrayed nothing. “If you wish.” She retrieved the pistol from Enid’s hands and set it back on the blanket with its magazine. “Again.”

Enid groaned softly but picked it up, repeating the steps, this time with a little more steadiness. The click of the magazine locking in didn’t make her jump as badly.

“Better,” Wednesday said. Then, after a pause: “But do not mistake improvement for proficiency.”

Enid rolled her eyes and blew a strand of hair from her face. “Right. Don’t get cocky, got it.”

Wednesday inclined her head. “Precisely.”

Enid studied her for a beat longer, still half-convinced that the comment about her muscles had been a slip, a moment of humanity cracking through the marble. But as Wednesday’s expression stayed empty of anything, she couldn’t decide if that made her feel better or worse.

"You will be in charge of the other two during your trip. I will speak with them shortly after I leave this room."

Enid blinked. “Wait- me? In charge?”

Wednesday’s eyes drifted to her as she stood from her spot on the bed. “You are the only one among the three who has seen them up close, and the only one who has survived alone until recently.”

Leading wasn’t what she signed up for. She’d thought she’d just… follow. Help carry things. Hit zombies with her bat.

“I… don’t know if I’m-”

"You will adapt." She said over her shoulder and opened the door, closing it behind her. Leaving Enid to collect her thoughts as her eyes drifted to the pistol Wednesday had left to her.

---

The hearse hummed along the cracked asphalt, tires thumping over potholes that the rain had carved deeper overnight. Enid’s hands stayed tight on the wheel, eyes fixed ahead on the gray ribbon of road.

“So,” Kent said after a few minutes, bouncing his knee in the backseat. “If this market’s still standing, think there’s a chance the slushie machine survived? Could be our first real score of the apocalypse.”

Enid snorted despite herself. “If only, maybe there'll be a cotton candy machine.”

“Don’t tempt me. End of the world’s got to have some perks.”

She shook her head, keeping her eyes forward. Kent’s voice helped- not enough to make the knot in her chest go away, but enough to keep it from swallowing her whole.

From the passenger seat, Xavier hadn’t joined in. He sat angled toward the window, arms folded, jaw set. His silence eventually made Kent falter.

“What?” Kent asked. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t kill for a cold Coke right now.”

Xavier’s gaze didn’t shift. “Look around.”

Enid risked a glance as they rolled through what used to be a neighborhood. Houses sat hollow with broken windows, doors hanging crooked on their hinges. Lawns had grown wild, swallowing driveways and cars left to slowly decay. But no figures stumbled through the yards. No moans. No scratching at fences. Nothing.

“Too quiet,” Xavier said finally, his voice low. “They were everywhere when it started. Where did they go?”

The hearse rolled on, the silence of the dead suburb pressing in from all sides. He had a point, the dead weren't exactly quiet so where did they all wander off too?

"Maybe they saw something and followed after it?" Kent offered, his nerves showing in his voice as he looked out the window too. "It would have to be something loud to draw all of them out of the houses like this." Xavier added sitting up a bit in his seat as they pulled out of the neighborhood and onto the main road.

"Well, we're getting closer to the farmer's market so make sure you guys got everything you need."  Enid said, chancing a glance toward the pair then back to the road being sure to slow down enough to avoid the abandoned cars that littered the road.

"Aye aye, captain." Kent answered leaning back in his seat behind Enid as Xavier leaned forward and produced the stained steak knife he'd apparently chosen as his weapon of choice, then he glanced toward Enid. "Do you have the gun?"

Enid blinked looking toward Xavier for a moment from the corner of her eye and nodding slowly. "Yeah."

"You have a gun?" Kent asked from the back, before Enid could answer a zombie shambled out from behind a truck and straight into their path. Enid only barely managed to slam on the breaks before they crashed into it or the car next to it.

"Fuck!" She said aloud, a shaky breath leaving her before she went for the door handle. "I got it." Xavier said slowly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and slowly began to climb out of the car.

The air outside seemed heavier when Xavier opened the door, humid with the faint rot of wet leaves and something sharper underneath. He gripped the knife tighter, stepping out onto the cracked pavement. The zombie’s head lolled toward him at the sound, one cloudy eye staring while its jaw worked like it was chewing air.

“Careful,” Enid warned through the rolled-down window, her voice sharper than she meant it to be and grimacing at her own tone.

“Yeah, thanks for the tip,” Xavier muttered, but the dry edge in his tone didn’t quite cover the way his shoulders bunched up. Slowly he approached the zombie as it turned to look at him a mix between a hiss, grown and gurgle rose from it's throat as it stumbled toward him.

Xavier readied his knife as he held up his free hand and caught the zombie by it's shirt and drove the knife down against it's skull causing it to immediately go limp and fall to the ground. Enid watched for a moment as Xavier let out a long breath wiping his hands on his pants before moving and climbing back into the car.

Xavier settled back into his seat, shutting the door a little harder than he meant to. His hands still shook, so he clenched them tight in his lap.

“Good job, dude.” Kent patted his shoulder, grin nervous but genuine. Xavier flinched, then gave him a jerky nod and a half-hearted thumbs up.

Enid kept her eyes on the road, but she saw the way his jaw flexed, the way he wouldn’t quite look at either of them. One zombie down, and it already rattled him. She didn’t blame him. She just hoped he wouldn’t freeze the next time it wasn’t a lone straggler.

She shifted the hearse back into gear, rolling forward past the sagging body. The silence returned, heavier now than before, pressing in from the empty houses and the unmoving windows.

It was five minutes later when they pulled to a stop just outside of the farmer's market, cars clustered about in a disorganized mess, stalls left filled with mostly rotten food and a few smaller stalls of all sorts were clustered amongst them.

"Where's the RV you saw?" Xavier asked quietly, sitting up a bit to get a better look.

"There." Enid pointed off behind a few of the stalls, the very top of the RV poking out from above them at the distance. The most unnerving thing about all this is how quiet it was, and the lack of biters anywhere to be seen.

Kent leaned forward between the seats, squinting. “Doesn’t look… touched. Shouldn’t there be more...” He trained off, eyes flicking over the rows of empty stalls.

"Let's go." Enid said after a moment, pulling the bat up from where it was resting between her legs and the door, pulling the key from the hearse and deciding to leave it incase they got separated, they all slowly climbed out of the hearse.

They slowly crept toward the RV, keeping an eye out for anything that might be good to bring back. Little things that make the end of the world seem less ominous than it was.

Moving deeper, it really was a ghost town. Not a single shambler though there were signs that they had wandered through. Smears of blood, bones left gnawed and teeth-marked.

A corpse mostly eaten that Kent almost vomited when they first smelled it, the incessant buzzing of flies that came with it. It didn't take them long to reach the RV. Enid tried the door and found it unlocked she slowly opened it and carefully peaked her head inside.

Thankful to not find any rotting bodies waiting to try and make her a late evening snack, she slowly climbed inside checking every room in the compact space until she was satisfied. "It's empty." She called to her companions who stepped inside looking about as well. "Cool." Kent offered absently, checking the cupboards of the small kitchen.

"Holy." He added taking out a can of baked beans. "There's a lot of canned food in here, looks like the person who owned this box was living out of it. This is a really good find." He said giving Enid a smile and a thumbs up.

Xavier was cursing slightly as he was taking apart the dashboard. Enid turned to watch for a moment. "What're you doing?"

"Hotwiring it. It's not like we're going to find the key anywhere nearby with how far the dead like to roam." He muttered at Enid.

Enid stepped back, watching Xavier fiddle with the wires, the faint click of metal on plastic mixing with the hum of flies outside. The RV smelled stale, like someone had lived too long in too small a space, but it was still better than the mildew rot of the houses they’d passed through.

“You know how to do that?” Kent asked from the kitchenette, tearing open a drawer like he was afraid of what he might find.

Xavier shot him a glare over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.”

Enid raised an eyebrow, leaning against the narrow counter. “Pretty sure your paintings don’t usually involve stripping wires.”

“Pretty sure you don’t usually run errands with a baseball bat,” Xavier muttered back, and Enid bit back a smile despite herself.

Kent let out a nervous laugh that was too loud in the stillness. “God, you guys sound married.”

Enid opened her mouth, but Xavier beat her to it with a flat: “Shut up.”

The engine coughed once, then sputtered into life, rumbling steady enough to shake the cabinets.

“Fuel?” she asked.

Xavier squinted at the gauge. “Third of a tank. Enough to get us back.”

Kent whooped softly and hopped toward the back. “I’m claiming lookout duty. Better view up top.” He thumped the ladder as he climbed, boots rattling against the metal rungs until he disappeared onto the roof.

"Then I'm going to do a quick round of the market stalls, maybe I'll spot something worth bringing back." Then Enid gave Xavier a single pat on the shoulder and climbed out, the tension in her shoulders easing a small bit as she gripped her bat between her hands and started to walk the metaphorical halls of the market.

Checking stalls for anything interesting, filling her backpack with all sorts of what Wednesday was sure to call useless things. Old CDs, not completely ruined books, a stuffed wolf for Cait.

Just as she finished zipping up her backpack and reslinging it over her shoulder something caught her ear. A slow and constant thup in the distance slowly getting louder and closer.

"Hey, do you guys hear that?" Kent called out from his perch atop the RV, a hand crowning his eyes as if it would help him see further into the distance. "Can you see anything?" Enid called back as she jogged back over to the RV.

Arriving at the bottom of the RV she walked about to the front of it close to a small hill that lead into the woods, squinting her eyes toward the horizon.

thup thup thup.

Overhead a helicopter came into view flying overhead. "Holy shit! They actually sent someone to rescue us!" Kent exclaimed raising his hands overhead and waving it a few times while shouting. Xavier poked his head out of the driver side window to peer up at the sky as the Helicopter apparently spotted Kent waving his arms as it started to circle about them. Enid let herself hope that this nightmare was soon to be over.

Maybe they had a camp nearby, a safe zone for people. From what she could tell it was clearly a military chopper given the olive paint it had on it. Enid's eye caught movement out the corner of her eye as her heart dropped. Shambling fingers began to wander out of the woods in droves drawn in by the sound of the helicopter. Her eyes went up to it as it continued to circle.

They had to know what they were doing, how could they not? They could see them wandering out of the woods. "Kent!" Enid shouted, causing him to look down from the helicopter and pause his waving only for the sound of thunder to fill the air and cause Enid's heart to jump before Kent landed on the ground in front of her with a thud.

Blood already beginning to soak his pants leg. She stared at him for a long moment until dust sprayed off the RV next to her as a hole was punched through it near her head. She jumped to work heaving Kent up and moving toward the door of the RV as the gurgling groans got louder.

"Xavier! Get ready to Drive!" She called out pulling Kent up and into the RV.

Kent groaned as Enid half-dragged, half-shoved him through the narrow door, his boot catching on the lip before she finally forced him inside. His face was pale, sweat already slicking his brow as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Xavier’s head snapped up from the steering column, panic flickering in his eyes as he took in Kent’s blood-soaked leg. “What the hell happened-”

“They shot him!” Enid snapped, breathless, shoving Kent onto the bench seat. She pointed a trembling hand at the ignition. “Forget asking questions, just get this thing moving!”

Xavier swallowed hard, nodding as he bent back over the wires. Sparks flared, his fingers trembling.

Outside, the chorus of groans swelled, rising from the treeline. Enid risked a glance out the window and her stomach dropped — the woods were alive with movement, dozens, maybe hundreds of the dead forcing their way out of the brush, their silhouettes staggering forward in a tide of pale faces and snapping teeth.

And still the helicopter circled, blades chopping the air, beginning to fade after shooting at both Kent and Enid then ringing the dinner bell. The message couldn’t be clearer: whatever the people in that chopper were doing, it wasn’t rescue.

Enid’s hands tightened the belt she just looped around Kent's leg to try and stop the worse of the bleeding, as she lifted up her bat and moved toward the front once more.

The RV roared to life with a guttural cough, Xavier letting out a half-sob, half-laugh of relief. “Got it! We’re running!”

“Good.” Enid took one last look at Kent, chest still rising and falling shallowly, then at Xavier’s white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

Her next words tasted like lead in her mouth. “You’re driving him back to the manor.”

Xavier looked up sharply. “What? No- Enid, we shouldn't-”

“I have to get the hearse,” she cut in, already reaching for the door handle. “We can’t leave it behind.”

“Enid-”

But she didn’t wait for him to finish. The horde was closing fast, and if she hesitated now, they’d all be lost.

She threw the door open and bolted into the open lot, heart hammering as the groans surged louder, closer. She wasn't being shot at now at least but she couldn't stay here.

The hearse waited at the far end of the stalls, black and gleaming like a coffin in the open sun. Between her and it stretched only a few hundred feet of cracked asphalt, already filling with the staggering dead.

Enid broke into a sprint, her entire body forcing out the energy that had been building once the first shot filled her ears. The RV roared behind her whipping past and speeding the direction she was running, past the hearse and down the road drawing a few of them away for just long enough that Enid was almost home free.

That was until she saw an undead sprinting at full speed at her, it's arms dangling behind it as if it had forgotten they existed entirely, mouth agape and growling.

She pivoted just as it reached her causing it to trip as it couldn't stop the forward momentum it had built up but it certainly wasn't going to stay on the ground long and Enid had no idea if there were more zombies that could still sprint.

Jumping onto and over a sedan that was near the hearse she landed next to the door, slamming her arm into it hard enough to both dent the door and definitely bruise her arm. Getting in and slamming the door just as a bloodied face smeared itself on the glass of the driver  side door, snarling at her.

Her chest heaved, lungs clawing for air as her hands fumbled with the keys.  The zombie outside scraped nails down the glass, its teeth clicking and gnashing inches from her face, leaving streaks of blood and spit on the window.

“Come on, come on-” Enid muttered, her shaking fingers nearly dropping the keys before she jammed the right one into the ignition.

The hearse roared awake with a guttural cough that seemed loud enough to shake the whole world. The sprinter slammed itself against the driver’s door hard enough to rock the frame, snarling through broken teeth, but Enid shoved the gearshift into reverse and slammed her foot down.

The hearse lurched back, its bumper crunching into the car behind her, jolting her forward against the wheel. Pain flared across her shoulder, but she yanked the gear into drive and floored it.

The sprinter clung to the side mirror for half a second before the force threw it tumbling beneath the rear wheels. A sickening crunch followed, but Enid didn’t dare look back.

Ahead, the RV was already barreling down the cracked road, weaving around abandoned cars as Xavier pushed the engine harder than it probably wanted to go.

It wasn't long until they were out of the more populated are and headed back to the outskirts. Enid's arm was throbbing worse by the second, to the point that she was certain she might have dislocated it from hitting it against the door but the adrenaline was dulling the pain.

it wasn't long before the manor came into view, the iron bar walls now neatly fortified with wooden planks stretching around what Enid could see. Ajax waiting in the guardhouse, seeing how quickly they were driving he hopped down and swung the gate open as fast as he could when Xavier slammed to a stop in front of the door.

Enid wasn't too far behind, pulling to a stop and turning the hearse off, climbed out of the car and ran toward the RV. "Enid-" Ajax began clearly worried by how frantic and messy she looked, the blood coating her hands and a bit of her face, mingling with the sweat.

"Get someone!" She said to him as she ran pass, sliding to a stop in front of the RV as Xavier was struggling to get Kent out the door. Helping him, they began to carry him up the front steps as Divina came out behind her. "Holy shit! What happened??" She immediately started to help as Enid swapped places with her, going to hold her arm instead.

"Everything was- was fine then a helicopter flew overhead and- and we thought it was just- It started shooting at us." Enid breathed out, heart still pounding though the adrenaline was fading now.

Wednesday stepped out, taking one look at Kent, Enid and Xavier in that order before pointing further inside. "Place him on the couch in the lounge, Ajax head upstairs, go to the room with a light grey door. It should be the second on the left after you pass the library. There is a duffel bag with a handful of medical supplies, Bring it."

Ajax nodded and ran off as Wednesday turned toward Enid, stepping forward and placing a hand on her throbbing arm. "Hold still." She carefully felt about the arm, Enid wincing and whimpering at the light pressure being applied.

"It is dislocated." She said after a moment, placing her hand on Enid's shoulder while another grabbed her bicep. "On three." Enid nodded, taking a deep breath and tried to prepare herself to wait for the countdown. "One." Wednesday shoved immediately after, the arm popping back into its socket and Enid letting out a string of curses as she hopped in place, holding her arm.

Wednesday let out a single chuff as she turned when Ajax came back downstairs, followed by a frazzled looking Yoko. "Enid- holy shit, are you okay?" Yoko asked looking at all the blood coating Enid's hands as she stopped hopping around and nodded. "Yeah, Wednesday fixed my arm- I dislocated it, Kent's a lot worse off." She answered motioning toward the lounge where Wednesday was stalking off too red and white duffel bag in hand.

"If you have no medical experience or are averse to blood I recommend staying. Allow yourself to become desensitized and familiar with such a sight as I believe it will become more and more common as time goes on." Wednesday began kneeling down beside Kent's leg looking at the belt currently wrapped around his thigh. "Well done." She said slowly looking toward Xavier who paused from where he stood near the back of the group.

Then he shook his head once looking away. "It was Sinclair, not me." Wednesday raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Enid. "I see. Well, you have saved him from bleeding out long enough for us to save his life entirely." She said as she took out a pair of scissors beginning to cut off the pants leg above his knee. The bullet had punched through his right shin, a black and red hole obvious.

"He'll be okay right?" Divina asked leaning over the couch to look at her brother, her face a mess of stress as Wednesday didn't give her a single glance. "He will be fine once the bleeding has been stopped and the wound stitched."

Enid let out a soft sigh as she collapsed in a nearby chair that was suddenly twenty times more comfortable than anything she could remember in recent months. Deciding to close her eyes for a moment she almost immediately drifted into a deep sleep.

Notes:

I was thinking about setting up a tumblr for both this story and my other one, Staring At The Sun. Though Iunno if that's something anyone would be interested in though I do like to talk to people and appreciate the comments even if I don't directly reply to them!